


One Year Later Anthology Part II: A Bit of Good, A Bit of Bad

by clightlee, VivienneStrongarm



Series: SSO Wild West One Year Later Anthology [2]
Category: Star Stable
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2019-10-10 20:55:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17433374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clightlee/pseuds/clightlee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivienneStrongarm/pseuds/VivienneStrongarm
Summary: Part II of the SSO Wild West AU's One Year Later Anthology. All writerly credit goes to VivienneStrongarm, and character creation kudos to Clara-Diamondsong and Space-Unicorn-Dot on tumblr





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From VivienneStrongarm:   
> "Clara is an outlaw with bounty hunters hot on her trail. Jay is an honest cowboy with a kind heart. After Clara steals something she shouldn't, Jay might be her only chance at getting it back safely.... if she can persuade him to help her out. After all, what's a favour among friends?
> 
> This story charts what happens when a bit of good, a bit of bad, and a whole lot of trouble end up in the mix together."

It would be nice, Clara reflected, to be able to ride through towns without worrying about bounty hunters. It would be nice to sleep in a proper bed again, too, and give Missy a proper stable. Still, that was what happened if you became one of the most notorious outlaws in New Jorvik – your head became worth a lot more when it wasn’t attached to your shoulders.  
Clara leafed through the paper, watching the street carefully from behind it, and her breath caught as she saw a man in dusty leathers pin another notice to the town board. Even from here, she could see it was a ‘wanted’ poster, and with her face underneath it. Shit.  
The man offered one of the posters to a woman as she walked past, but she only shook her head and apologised, not even stopping to look properly. Clara smiled. That was common since the battle a year ago. The residents of New Jorvik tended to keep busy, keep quiet, and not look strangers in the eye. Besides, most of them were aware the success had hinged on everyone, townspeople and outlaws, coming together, and few had any desire to see their friends captured by bounty hunters.  
Missy nudged her back lightly, impatient as always, but Clara just pushed her nose away. “Calm a moment, girl,” she whispered. “I’m not leaving without that poster.”  
After a few more fruitless attempts to engage the townspeople, the bounty hunter sighed, swung onto his tall grey horse, and urged it into a canter, heading out of town. Clara sighed with relief. Safe, at least for one more day.  
The sketch wasn’t that flattering, but it was accurate – the curse of being a daughter of the wealthy, where photographs were inevitable. It was the usual list of crimes – armed robbery, evasion of the law, attempted murder – but the issuer’s name caught her eye. New Aideen’s Plaza? What possible reason could they have to want her? The memory clicked, and Clara’s heart sank. Oh no. Not  _that._

Jay smiled as he pulled Blossom to a halt outside the dingy little shop. The mare shifted her weight as he tied her reins to the rail of a corral, near to where a blue roan mustang was picking at a pile of hay. The two horses touched noses briefly, and then Blossom yanked a mouthful of hay away, earning an annoyed squeal from the mustang. “Blossom!” Jay admonished her. “You know better than to take food that doesn’t belong to you. Sorry, Stormsong.” He raised a hand to give the mustang a pat, but she tossed her head and walked off to the other end of the corral, evidently disgusted with the pair of them. Blossom took the opportunity to pull some more hay from the pile.  
Jay shook his head and pushed the shop door open. “Viv?”  
“Jay?” Viv smiled, and Jay grinned back. It was always a good day when Viv had a smile. “What are you doing here?”  
“Pulled a bunch of weeds yesterday, wanted to know if any of them are of any use to you,” Jay said, pulling a bulging bag from his pack and setting it on the counter.  
“Let’s have a look, then.” Viv pulled a pair of gloves from beneath the counter and shook out the bag. “Dandelions, nettles, burdock… Jay, these aren’t weeds,” Viv said, exasperated.  
“Weeds are just plants growing in the wrong place,” Jay said firmly. “If you want them, go ahead and keep them. I’ll bring some more by soon, if you want them.”  
“I can ride out to you,” Viv said, still sorting through the plants. “You don’t need to be making trips for me.”  
“And you don’t need to be brushing away help for no reason,” Jay said reasonably. “I’m stopping by town every few days anyway, it’s no problem to stop by you at the same time.”  
“Alright, then.” Viv smiled again. “Thank you.”  
“How’ve things been?” Jay asked, as Viv swept the plants into their apron and carried them through to the back of the shop.  
“Fine, I suppose,” Viv replied, dumping the plants onto a worktable and opening a heavy book. “Mind those bottles,” they added, as Jay stepped into the workroom. “Stormsong’s settled fine, and the shop’s alright.”  
“But?” Jay asked.  
“But, I still feel out of place here,” Viv said quietly, flicking through the pages of the book. “People are finally starting to talk to me in town, but… the plan wasn’t to be here alone.”  
“It's not your fault, Viv,” Jay said, touching their shoulder lightly. “It was just bad luck.”  
“I know that, it’s just that we decided to come here together. We were supposed to stay together,” Viv said, slicing nettles with a bit more force than was needed. “It’s the change. I keep wishing I could get back on a boat to Ireland and be done here.”  
“I know the feeling,” Jay said. “Not sure Stormsong would be too pleased if you just upped sticks, though.”  
Viv cracked a small smile. “That’s true.” They sighed heavily. “I have real problems to be worrying about, you know? I need to stop wasting time wishing. And moaning to you.”  
“Anytime,” Jay said, leaning back on one of the tables. “You found the Moorland Ranch okay?”  
“Yeah, a girl fitted Stormsong’s saddle properly for me,” Viv said, pouring the nettles into a small tin pot. “Louisa, I think. Was real nice about it, too.”  
“See, plenty of good people in this town,” Jay said with a smile. “You just have to ask them for a favour.”  
“Alright, don’t go on about it,” Viv muttered, but Jay caught them smiling again. “How’s things at the farm?”  
Jay shrugged. “As well as can be expected. Ma misses having our own place, but it’s really starting to feel like home now.”  
"And Blossom?”  
“Was stealing Stormsong’s food when I left her,” Jay admitted. Viv rolled their eyes. “What, you want me to try and come between a Clydesdale and her food?”  
Viv looked out of the window to the corral, where Blossom was munching on the last of the hay, a satisfied expression on her face. “It would be nice if you could at least try.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara thinks back to old crimes, and begins to plan a new one.

It hadn’t been Clara’s fault. Not _really_ , anyway. New Aideen’s Plaza was a tiny little village, barely more than a square and a few streets, crouching in the shadow of the city. The residents were almost bored of life; they’d hardly noticed Clara riding into town. They’d noticed her leaving, though.  
Clara had whiled away a few days there, resting up, keeping quiet, dipping her fingers into the villager’s pockets when she was running low on cash. And when she left, slipping off into the night like a shadow, she’d stopped for a moment in the square, beneath the golden statue of Aideen standing proud in the fountain.  
_Stop and reflect in the light of Aideen,_ said a small plaque set into the stone, and so Clara had. Most of all, she’d reflected on how she hadn’t made any significant money in weeks. It had been the work of a moment to jump up onto the worn stone of the fountain, and slip the golden harp from Aideen’s hand. It hadn’t even been nailed on. It was as if they wanted it stolen.  
But just as she slipped it into her bag, she heard Missy snort nervously. Clara looked up sharply, and her heart sank as she saw the lean figure of a dog trotting across the plaza. There wasn’t much, in all honesty, that Missy minded – she’d been in shootouts, wild night-time gallops and an outlaw’s camp – but the one thing the mare hated was dogs. Just the smell could put her on edge.  
Missy started backing up nervously, tossing her head, as the dog sloped nearer, and Clara grabbed hold of her bridle. “Hush, girl. Easy. It’s just a dog; he won’t hurt you.” She glared at the dog. “Shoo!” she hissed as loudly as she dared. “Go on, get out of here!”  
The dog whined and slunk closer, sniffing the air, and Missy’s eyes were so wide Clara could see the whites of them. Even with her hooves bound in rags to muffle the sound, the mare’s anxious footsteps were loud in the near-silent plaza. Someone was going to hear. Clara steadied her bag with one hand and swung herself into Missy’s saddle. “There, girl. I’m with you. Nothing to worry about. You,” she added to the dog, “can get lost. Go on!” The dog tilted it’s head and took a couple of steps away from them; Clara breathed a sigh of relief and put her heels to Missy’s sides, urging her out of the plaza. The mare skittered and side-stepped, but Clara pressed her on, past the dog. One step. Two. Three. And then, just when she thought she’d gotten away with it, Missy raised her head and let out an angry whinny, loud enough to wake the dead.  
Clara had left New Aideen’s Plaza much faster than she’d intended, hanging onto Missy’s saddle horn for balance as bullets zinged past her. And when she’d neared New Jorvik, she wasn’t about to waltz into town carrying the ten pounds of gilded tin everyone was looking for. It was a bad idea to try and fence stolen goods straightaway; better to wait for the fuss to die down, for everything to even out and the event to fade from people’s minds. So she’d stashed it in an old outhouse on an even older farm, run-down and uncared-for, knowing it would be the last place anyone would think to look for it.  
And that hadn’t worked out either. Clara frowned as she peered through the telescope. It appeared the farm had gotten a new owner since she used it as a hiding place. The overgrowth was gone, the outhouses had been whitewashed, and a tall, strong-looking young man was hauling sacks onto a waiting cart, while a few cows and horses grazed peacefully in the pastures.  
That put paid to her plans of going in and taking it as easily as the night she’d hidden it – if it hadn’t already been found or moved by the rancher. And Clara wasn’t about to risk her neck by poking around in the hope of finding it.  
More information, that was what she needed. And there was one place in New Jorvik she was guaranteed to find it.

 

“Clara Diamondsong, as I live and breathe,” the barkeep said. “Got tired of living in the mountains already?”  
“Emma,” Clara said with a grin. “How about you stop leaning on the bar and get me a drink?”  
“And who are you to order me around?” Emma asked, not moving.  
“Your customer.”  
“Fair enough, then.” Emma pushed herself off the bar and grabbed a glass. “Well?”  
“‘Well’ what?”  
“Are you going to tell me what you’d like to drink, or shall I use telepathy?” Emma closed her eyes and screwed her face up in concentration. “Ah, I can see you’re in a top-shelf mood.”  
Clara laughed. “Only if you’re the one paying. Make it a whiskey, on the rocks. Bottom-shelf, Emma.”  
“And what brings you into town today?” Emma asked, pulling a bottle from the shelf.  
“Oh, a bit of this, bit of that,” Clara replied. “People to speak to.”  
Emma glanced around the bar discretely and leaned in a little closer. “There was a bounty hunter in here a couple days back,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “He was asking about you, and I don’t think he was looking to take you to dinner.”  
Clara’s heart sank. “What did you say?”  
“Told him I’d never seen you before in my life. I don’t know where you’re plying your trade now, and I don’t want to know. But you watch out, Clara,” Emma said softly. “Not every town forgives like New Jorvik.” She pushed the whiskey glass across to Clara. “Six shillings.”  
“Much obliged,” Clara said, dropping the money on the counter. “For everything.”  
Emma nodded and turned away to her next customer as Clara wove through the room. The bar wasn’t crowded this afternoon, but she still couldn’t see the person she was looking for. She took an empty table in the corner, and sat down to wait.  
“Good to see you again, Clara.” She twisted in her seat to see Esmeralda standing over her, grinning as if she’d won a game. “Room for one more?”  
“By all means.” Clara pulled a chair over, and Esmeralda sat, fanning herself with her hat.  
“Aideen, it’s hotter than hell outside,” she muttered. “I don’t get how you can stand wearing that jacket.”  
“I don’t get how you can think a bullwhip is a sensible choice of weapon, but we all have our quirks,” Clara said with a shrug.  
Esmeralda looked at her coldly for a long moment, and they both broke into laughter. “It’s good to see you in town again,” Esmeralda said. “I assume you have a plan in progress?”  
Clara shook her head. “Nothing as such. How is bounty hunting treating you?”  
Esmeralda grinned. “Oh, it has it’s perks, definitely.”  
“Any you want to talk about?” Clara asked.  
“Nothing yet,” Esmeralda said with a smile. “I’ll tell you at some point.”  
“Oh, you’re no fun,” Clara sighed, sipping her whiskey. It burnt beautifully on the way down, and she relaxed into her seat. “Who owns that farm on the west side of town?”  
Esmeralda looked at her. “So you _do_ have a plan afoot. Can I suggest that striking at the town that just pardoned you might not be your best idea?”  
“I don’t have a plan, not yet. And that farm isn’t a target. I was just riding past and I didn’t recognise the people there.”  
“You wouldn’t, they’re new to town. New enough, in any case. Ravenshield, I think they’re called. Pair of them, mother and son.”  
“It was the son I saw,” Clara admitted. “You don’t know his first name, by any chance?”  
“Jay. Jaime, really, but he calls himself Jay.” Esmeralda paused. “Why are you so interested, anyway?”  
“I told you, I like to know who’s new in town,” Clara said. “It’s the neighbourly thing to do.”  
“Mmm-hmm. And the day I believe that sorry excuse you can paint my horse purple,” Esmeralda laughed. “You’re never just interested in getting to know people, Clara. You want to know who might be useful.”  
“Am I that transparent?”  
“Yes. And in this case,” Esmeralda continued, “you’re shit outta luck. Jay Ravenshield is a good person, Clara. The kind of good person that would help Madam Holdsworth home without her asking. I can’t see him being interested in illegal activity, other than reporting it to the Rangers.”  
“Reporting what to the Rangers?”  
“Allison? What are you doing here?” Clara hardly recognised her, though Allison’s signature golden bandana was still hanging in it’s customary place at her throat.  
“I was passing,” Allison said, sitting down next to Esmeralda and setting a glass down.. “And I couldn’t help but notice a very distinctive mare tied up outside, so I thought I’d drop by. Glad to see you’re still in one piece, Clara. And you, Esmeralda. So,” she said, taking a sip of her beer, “who is reporting what to the Rangers?”  
“No one is reporting anything – yet,” Esmeralda said with a smile. “But Clara was wanting to know if the Ravenshield boy would make a good accomplice.”  
Allison snorted into her drink. “You’d have more luck persuading the sky to turn green.”  
“You know him?” Clara asked.  
Allison shrugged. “A little. He’s the kind that’s a friend to everyone, even when he should know better. It’s a good thing Kembell died before the Ravenshields arrived – Jay would have bought him a drink.”  
Esmeralda laughed. “Pick someone else, Clara. I know you’re a charmer, but I doubt even you could win him over.” She swirled her drink absent-mindedly. “I’d be willing to bet he’d have you run out of town than ride out of it with you.”  
“How much?”  
Esmeralda choked on her whiskey. “What?”  
“How much are you willing to bet? That I couldn’t get Jay Ravenshield eating out the palm of my hand?”  
“Ten shillings,” Esmeralda said. “I don’t have your boundless optimism.”  
Allison laughed softly. “Gambling already, Clara?”  
Clara smiled. “It’s not gambling if you know you’re going to win.” She drained her drink and kicked her chair back. “On an unrelated note, where would a girl buy a sleeping draft nowadays?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to the creators of Emma, Esmeralda and Allison, whose wonderful characters are giving me a great secondary cast to weave in!  
> Emma - https://emma-wolfheart.tumblr.com/  
> Esmeralda - https://esmeraldashadowlord.tumblr.com/  
> Allison - https://a-lonely-star-gazer.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara makes a very special purchase

Clara pulled Missy to a halt and looked at the shop warily. It had to be the one Allison had meant; it was the last one along this road, on the very edge of New Jorvik, drawn away from the bustle of the main town. Missy stamped irritably, pulling against the reins a little.  
“Hush, girl. You’re all right,” Clara said, giving her a pat. A blue roan mustang watched her curiously from a dusty corral as she tied Missy to the hitching post.  
Clara ducked under the drying bunches of herbs suspended from the veranda and pushed the door open. A shop bell rang cheerily, but there was no one behind the counter. Intrigued, she edged into the shop a little further; there were more herbs drying in bunches that hung from the rafters, and every shelf was crammed with neat rows of bottles, some of them labelled with a neat, curving hand.  _Lady’s Lace, Crushed Nettles, Dreamless Sleep…_  “Vigour?” Clara held the bottle to the light, watching the sunbeams turn purple as they struck the floor.  
“Can I help you?”  
Clara spun and saw a tall person standing in the doorway behind the counter, their arms crossed.  
“What’s this?” Clara said, holding the bottle up.  
“It’s for men who are failing to satisfy their wives,” the shopkeeper replied shortly. “You probably don’t need it.”  
“Are you Viv?” Clara asked, putting the bottle back. “I was told you were the person to speak to about a potion.”  
“By who?” Viv leant against the counter, and Clara could get a better look at them – they had red hair, freckles and blue eyes that were cold with suspicion.  
“People. I don’t think we need to bother with names. Word’s got around that you’ve got a touch with tinctures. So, what’ll a sleeping draft cost me?”  
“Depends what you want it to do,” Viv replied. “What are you using it for?”  
“Uh, it’s for my friend,” Clara said hesitantly. “She’s having real trouble sleeping. She sent me over to ask for a draft.”  
“And this friend,” Viv asked, “how many hours of sleep has she been losing?”  
“Oh, eight or nine, maybe?” Clara said, her stomach unknotting itself a bit. She knew this careful dance of words, as familiar as an old song.  
“And will she be mixing it? In a drink?”  
“Yes.”  
Viv paused for a moment, considering. “So it will need to be mild-tasting, I expect. Almost nothing there.”  
“Yes, exactly. It needs to be slow-acting, too,” she added quickly. “My friend—”  
“I’m sure we both want the best for her,” Viv said smoothly. “Slow-acting, hmm? Then this,” they said, placing a tiny bottle on the counter, “should be absolutely perfect. It will take effect over an hour or so, and then she’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep.”  
Clara stared at the vial of clear liquid.  
“How do I know it’s the right stuff?”  
“It’ll numb your tongue, if you care to taste.”  
“So does poison.” Clara had heard the rumours. She wasn’t stupid enough to believe Viv didn’t deal in poisons, and she didn’t want to walk off with one by mistake. She didn’t want to kill Jay, after all.  
“Alright.” Viv pulled the cork from the bottle, the sound clear in the silence of the shop, and let a single drop of the potion fall onto their finger. They licked it. “Satisfied?”  
Clara took the bottle and copied Viv’s motion, placing a drop on her tongue. It tingled a little, and then grew duller. “I’m satisfied.”  
“Good. Then that’ll be forty shillings,” Viv said, corking the bottle.  
Clara felt like she’d been punched in the gut. “You must be mad if you think I’ll pay that much.”  
“Twenty is for the draft,” Viv said reasonably. “The ingredients you want aren’t cheap. The other twenty is for my silence. It’s optional, of course. But I can’t guarantee that I won’t say something to one of the Rangers, should your friend come to some trouble.”  
“If my friend came to any trouble, you’d be under as much suspicion as me,” Clara snapped.  
Viv gave her a tight smile. “I’ve done nothing but sell you a sleeping draft for your poor friend, ailing from insomnia. Nothing illegal in the slightest .”  
“Alright,” Clara said after a moment. “Forty shillings, damn you.”  
Viv swept the money off the counter with a smile, and passed her the bottle. “Lovely doing business with you, miss. I’ll do my best to forget it as soon as possible.”  
“Yeah, you do that,” Clara muttered, shoving the bottle into her jacket as she left the shop. Missy glanced up at her, and Clara gave her a pat before swinging up into the saddle. Forty fucking shillings… Still, she had the draft. Everything was in place. She just needed Jay.  
And she knew exactly where to find him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara finds her mark, and sparks fly when Viv finds out who it is.

“You need a hand with that, Emma?”

“You’re too damn nice, Jay, I swear,” Emma said, hefting the crate up. “But I’ve got this. Wouldn’t say no to you grabbing the door in any case, though.”

“Of course,” Jay said, holding the swinging door back so she could get through. “It’s nice to have you back. You have a good trip?”  


“Good, but long,” Emma said, setting the crate down on the bar.

“I can see that—you’re all tanned now.”

“Not so much tanned as burnt,” she laughed, looking down at her arms ruefully. “But, yes, it was good. Helped a couple of people, fixed a couple things. You’ve not been here when Louisa’s been telling the story?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, I think she’s in tonight, telling it. A grand epic, or at least she’s telling it that way.” Emma rolled her eyes as she began to unpack the bottles from the crate, and Jay smiled.

“Then I picked the right night to stop by, didn’t I?” he said, passing a couple of bottles over to her as she stacked the shelves. “Is Viv here yet?”

Emma looked at him. “What do you think?”

“I think you haven’t seen them yet,” Jay said.

“And the prize goes to the man in the hat!” Emma’s voice was muffled as she bent down to a lower shelf. “They haven’t been in since last week.”

Jay sighed. Typical Viv. They were probably staying open late, hoping for last-minute customers. “Let them know I’m here when they arrive, will you?”

“Will do.” Emma straightened up, dusting her hands on her apron. “Can I get you a drink while you sit?”

“You still have any of that cider from New Firgrove?”  


“You know it.” Emma pulled down a glass and filled it, the cider glittering richly in the evening light. “Four shillings.”

“Much obliged.” Jay passed her the coins and made his way to an empty seat near the windows, where he could watch the world go by. There went Louisa, arm in arm with her fiancée, with that troublesome pinto following behind; Roo the blacksmith was standing near the corner, haggling over the price of coal with a shopkeeper; the librarian, Carina, was walking briskly down the street with a couple of oilcloth-wrapped books tucked close to her chest. People began to draw toward the bar as the time dragged on, lured toward the soft glow of the lamps as the sun grew low and heavy in the sky. Horses rested by the hitching post outside, shifting as they dozed and occasionally engaging in small squabbles— the stamp of a foot, the pinning of an ear—with their neighbours.

“Is this seat taken?”

Jay glanced up, yanked out of his reverie, to see a woman gesturing to the seat next to him with a smile. “Uh, no, ma’am. I have a friend arriving by and by, but I daresay they can pull up another chair when they get here.”

“What a gentleman.” She sat down and pushed her long blonde hair back from her face. “Gosh, this heat is starting to get to me. Sorry, I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Jay swallowed a little. “No ma’am. Only moved to New Jorvik recently. My name’s Jay. Jay Ravenshield.”

The woman smiled wider and extended her hand. “Delighted to meet you, Jay Ravenshield. I’m Clara.”

 

Jay was good company, Clara had to admit. He told her of his childhood and his love of animals, particularly his horse, Blossom. He told her about the farm where he and his mother worked, and how he was finding New Jorvik. Ever courteous, he asked her about her background and she answered carefully, skipping the illegal parts, which was most of the last few years. Instead, Clara spoke about her family, and what it had been like growing up as a wealthy young lady in New Jorvik. He laughed as she told him about climbing out of the window to escape an elocution lesson, spraining her ankle in the process.

“You enjoy the farm?” Clara asked, sipping her drink—her second, though Emma had watered this one down for her.

Jay was a drink or so ahead of her, but his cheerful demeanour never failed. “It’s good. Hard work, though. I don’t mind it too much, the animals and stuff. Better to be doing honest work in the fields than something crooked in an office.” He smiled at her brightly. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that,” Clara said, shrugging. “I help where I’m needed.” _And rob the place when everyone’s back is turned_ , she added privately.

Jay laughed. “If Old Man Jasper was hiring any more hands, I’d say come up to the farm sometime. Lotta junk round the place that oughta be cleared up. Reckon he hasn’t done it properly for years.”

Clara’s heart leapt. If the farm had lain  undisturbed for years, then there was a good chance that the harp was still there. She just needed to get inside. “Haven’t you tried to do it already?”

“Oh, I’ve tried, all right,” Jay snorted. “Seems every time I take one bit of trash away, ten more spring up in its place. Outhouses are about bursting at the seams.”

Perfect. If she could get up there, then the harp was probably where she’d left it and this whole thing would be sorted. “Sounds like hard work,” she said. “Maybe I could come back with you… lend a hand.” She gave him a sultry smile, and he coloured a little, his gaze darting to the door.

“Viv! Took you long enough to get here.” He stood to let his friend sit down, and Clara’s confidence froze to ice in her stomach as the herbalist from earlier sat opposite.

“Had a late sale, and then closing up took longer than I expec—oh.” They stopped short, staring at Clara. “You didn’t tell me you invited anyone else.”

“Clara, this is Viv. Viv, Clara,” Jay said, shifting over so Viv could draw up a chair. “Clara wanted somewhere to sit, and turns out she’s good company.”

“Charmed,” Clara said, extending her hand, and smiled as Viv’s eyes narrowed.

“Good to meet you, Clara,” Viv said levelly. “Always nice to put a name to a face.”

 

Clara fixed her hair in the looking glass Emma had hung in the bathroom, trying to push down her anger. It had been going so well until that damn herbalist turned up. Always needling Clara with questions, or making pointed remarks—Jay, nicely relaxed after a few drinks, didn’t seem to be picking up on the tension, but she couldn’t see any way that she was going to be able to slip him that potion, let alone go back to his farm with him. It was like having the perfect drink sitting in front of her in the heat and being unable to drink it.

“Deciding on your next plan of attack?” The door to the bathroom swung open and Viv stood there, arms folded.

Clara looked up and sniffed with derision. “I don’t know what you mean. Perhaps you’ve had too much to drink, Vivienne.”

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” Viv said, letting the door fall shut as they advanced on Clara, “but you need to back away from Jay.”

She laughed and turned back to the mirror. “Look who’s feeling protective all of a sudden. You weren’t concerned earlier when that draught was going to be for someone else.”

“I didn’t know—”

“Bullshit.” Clara turned to glare at them. “You knew it was going to be used for something illegal, and you didn’t care, so long as you got your cut.”

“I care now,” Viv snapped. “Jay is a good person, he’s my friend. I—I—”

“What? You won’t let me? I’d love to see how you plan to stop me.”

Suddenly she was slammed back against the wall, Viv’s arm pressed against her throat with an iron grip. “Back the fuck off him, Clara,” Viv growled, their eyes blazing. “Whatever you want from him, you can find elsewhere.”

“Ah, you see, Viv,” Clara choked out, grasping for her pistol at her hip, “that’s where you’re wrong.” She grinned as Viv’s face grew pale as the barrel of the pistol pressed against their stomach. “Forgot I had a gun, huh? Let go of me.”

Viv’s hand dropped away and they backed off slightly. “I hope you know what you’re doing with Jay. That boy wouldn’t know dishonesty if it bit him on the face. Whatever this is, you tell him the truth.” They turned on their heel and left, the door slamming behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to @collarsscarsandbracelets for doing a wonderful job of proofreading this for me!


	5. Chapter 5

“The truth is,” Clara said, sighing, “well, it’s a long story.”

“Then tell me,” Jay said, gesturing to the seat next to him. “It’s too damn hot to work in any case, so I’ve got the time.”

“It’s… You might have heard that there were some… problems in New Jorvik last year,” Clara said, sitting down next to him in the shade. “We sorted them, but not everyone got out unscathed. Some people left town, some betrayed us. It—I’m sorry. It was a hard time.” She pressed her lips together tightly, and Jay’s heart ached.

“Go on, Clara,” he said gently, squeezing her hand. “Tell me.”

“My—my family, they’re wealthy. They tried to keep my brother and me away from what was happening in New Jorvik, even before it happened, but I didn’t listen. And then, when the fighting started, I knew that if we lost, there were things in my family’s house that we couldn’t afford to lose. I took them, and I hid them across New Jorvik, in places I thought no one would look, waiting for everything to die down so I could get them back. I… I hid one here.”

“Here?”

“It was almost deserted when I did; I didn’t think anyone would find it!”

“So meeting me at the bar last night,” Jay said. “That was intentional, I take it?”

Clara smiled sadly, nodding. “I hoped maybe we— If I came back— ”

“You could check,” Jay said, understanding dawning.

Clara nodded, her eyes glistening with unspilled tears. “I didn’t… I wasn’t just pretending. You were good company.”

Jay snorted softly. “All right. Where did you hide it?”

“In that outhouse.” Clara gestured to a small barn on the other side of the yard, and Jay got to his feet, helping her up.

“Come on then, let’s have a look,” Jay said, offering his hand to Clara. “Don’t suppose you’d mind telling me what exactly we’re looking for?”

“A golden harp,” she said. “About so big.”

“That might be a problem,” Jay said slowly, and Clara’s face fell.

“You’ve seen it?”

“I’ve not only seen it,” he admitted. “I’m the one who sold it.”

“Sold it?”

“In my defence, I didn’t know it was gold, covered in dirt like that. Old Man Jasper got me to clear that out a month or so back, put aside anything that might be sold. The harp was one of those things. Took it down to one of the markets, sold everything we could.” He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looking back, I should have realised that a harp statue was an odd thing to find in a farm outhouse.”

“Where did it go?” Clara demanded. “Who did you sell it to?”

Jay spread his hands wide. “I—I don’t know. Honestly. Tall woman, red coat, black horse.”

“You didn’t ask her name?” Clara said, and Jay shook his head.

“Sorry. No need to. She didn’t look like she wanted to chat, in fairness.” He paused. “There was another woman, pale hair. She called the one who bought your harp Sabrina, I think?”

Clara froze for a moment. “It wouldn’t be ‘Sabine,’ by any chance?”

“Could have been,” Jay said, shrugging. “Do you know her?”

“If it’s who I think it is, I know her all too well. And she’s not likely to give me the harp because I ask her nicely,” she said, frustrated. “I need to go into town to see some people. I have to get the harp back.”

“I know,” Jay said. He took a deep breath. “I’ll come with you.”

Clara looked at him incredulously. “What?”

“I’ll come with you. If you need an extra pair of hands or eyes, or someone to back you up when you talk to this Sabine, I’ll help. Consider it an apology for selling something so important to your family.” He spread his hands. “Let me help you, Clara.”

She was silent for a second, and then nodded. “Fine. I’ll find out where she’s gone, and then we can pay her a visit—together.”

“Where are you going now, then?” Jay asked as she mounted Missy.

Clara smiled. “I’m going to talk to an old friend.”

 

“Sabine? You really think she’s back around here again?”

Clara shrugged. “I don’t know, in all honesty, but it sounds it. Travelling with a pale-haired woman, apparently.”

“Katja,” Allison said, and cursed softly under her breath. “Why would they come back? Why travel together, when New Jorvik knows them?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Clara said. “But, knowing them, it’s nothing good. I don’t understand why now, a year later, they would come back.”

“Well, if they do show their faces around here,” Allison said, holstering her gun, “I’ll be ready for them.”

“I’m not waiting for them to come here,” Clara said bluntly. “Besides, they have something of mine, and I’d like it back.”

“Clara, don’t be an idiot,” Allison said, unrolling a map of New Jorvik. “It might feel good to ride off after them, but Sabine’s smart, unfortunately, and she’s not too bad a shot. The Rangers will help.”

“No you won’t,” she replied firmly. “I don’t need to be giving them a heads-up that I’m coming. One or two people can get into places that five can’t.”

“Just me and—”

“No. You’re not coming.”

Allison sighed. “Whatever they’ve taken from you, it’s not something I should know about, correct?”

Clara gave a short nod. “Don’t ask me to tell you, Allison.”

Allison paused, took a deep breath, and shook her head. “Fine. Fine, I won’t ask. But if you’re not back within a week, I’m sending the Rangers.”

“A week’s not much time,” Clara said, leaning over the map.

“You don’t need much time. From what I hear, they’re only on the edge of New Jarlaheim, a couple of days’ ride from here.” Allison tapped the map. “Right about there would be my guess.”

Clara frowned as she examined the point Allison had mentioned. “How come you know where they are?”

“It’s my job,” Allison said simply. “I keep my ear to the ground. It wasn’t until you said that they might be back it started to drop into place. There’s been things going missing, people robbed… It makes sense now. I reckon they’re around here. Kembell had a drilling operation there, if I remember right.” She indicated a stretch of rocky land near the coast. “No reason why a couple of the tunnels wouldn’t still be intact. And the mining house would be there.” She gestured to the area she’d previously marked.

“What makes you think they’re there?”

“Rats like holes,” Allison said simply. “That, and that if I was stealing from folk, I’d want to hide close enough to make sure I could get to them, and somewhere they wouldn’t think to look. An abandoned mining house would be perfect. The tunnels are cold and dry—it’s as good a place as any to hide stolen goods.”

Clara paused, considering. “All right, New Jarlaheim it is. Can I take this?” she added, pointing at the map.

Allison looked at her skeptically. “Am I going to get it back? Or at least get it back bloodstain-free?”

“On my honour as a no-good, dirty, rotten outlaw,” Clara said with a grin, and Allison rolled her eyes.

“It’ll have to do, I suppose.”

 

“Did someone knock your sense out of your head?” Viv stalked through to the workroom, Jay following. “That woman is about as trustworthy as an adder in the long grass.”

“Viv, she needs some help,” Jay said, grabbing their shoulder and turning them to face him. “I sold her family heirloom. The least I can do is help try to get it back.”

“And have you considered how you might do that?” Viv asked. “Just going to walk into someone’s house and say ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to sell this, we’ll be going now’? Will you ask nicely?”

“I—”

Viv stared at him in disbelief. “People won’t help you for the sake of a winning smile, Jay. And I don’t think that’s what Clara trades in. She has a gun for a reason. She has a fast horse and no home in town for a reason. Just be smart enough to recognise what that reason is.”

“So what, you’re saying everyone with a pistol and a mustang can’t be trusted?” he said, frowning. “We’d have to arrest half the town, including you.”

Viv sighed. “I’m just asking you to be a little bit smart about what you’re doing, Jay. Whatever Clara’s doing, I doubt she’s doing it out of the goodness of her heart.”

“She’s doing it for her family,” Jay said. “And you’re too suspicious of people. You always have been.”

Viv shook their head. “I have my reasons, Jay. That Clara is not who she says she is.”

“You can’t stop me going,” he said quietly, and they laughed softly, bitterly.

“I don’t think Aideen herself could sway you off your path. But,” they said, wiping their hands on their apron, “if you’re going to head out with that woman, which I think makes you a damn fool, you can at least have the right tinctures for the job.” They went to the shelves and began pulling bottles down. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Jay said, watching Viv’s fingers dance their way across the glass bottles.

They stilled. “No time for me to talk you out of it, then?” they asked, taking down a vial and holding it up to the light.

“Not really,” Jay said, shrugging.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Viv dredged up a smile. “Then you make sure you come back in one piece.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jay said, mock-saluting. “Or sir. Mir?” Viv laughed—a proper laugh, and Jay grinned, knowing he was at least partially forgiven.

“You need yarrow salve,” Viv said, turning back to the shelves. “Good for injuries. I’m all out, but I’ll steep a batch overnight and bring it by the bar in the morning.”

“Thank you, Viv,” Jay said, as Viv passed him a couple of other small bottles.

“Not a problem,” they replied. “I just need a couple of favours from you.”

“A couple?”

“One we’ve already discussed,” Viv said. “Come back in one piece.”

“And the other?” Jay asked.

“Don’t turn your back on her.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay and Clara finally set off on the open road - but not before Clara gets a final warning from Viv.

Jay was late. Viv sighed and paced back and forth under the veranda of the Wolf Pack, watching for any sign of movement. It was just before dawn, and the inky night was slowly retreating, replaced with apricot and soft gold. The town was yet to wake, the schoolhouse bell was yet to ring, and even the girls who had once worked at the Calico had finally retreated to their beds, most of them with company. New Jorvik was emptier and quieter than Viv had ever seen it.

They shivered a little and pulled their jacket tighter, watching for any sign of life. Stormsong stamped irritably, and Viv stroked her neck. “Easy, my girl. Sun’ll soon be up.”

There came the distant sound of hoofbeats, and Viv looked up to see a rider cantering into town, the sun at their back. But the horse was too small to be Blossom, and the rider too slight to be Jay. The horse dropped to a trot as it neared, and Viv had to suppress a sigh. “Clara,” they said levelly as the rider swung down from the saddle.

“Viv.” Clara gave them a curt nod. “I wasn’t aware you were coming with us.”

“I’m not,” Viv replied shortly. “I’m just here to give Jay a few bits for the journey, in case you get him into trouble. Or should that be _when_ you get him into trouble?”

“Oh, relax,” Clara chuckled. “Jay would be terrible if he was faced with a dangerous situation. We’ll steer well clear.”

“You’d better,” Viv said.

“So protective,” Clara said lightly as Viv turned to tend to Stormsong. “Why?”

They could feel her eyes raking the back of their neck as they busied themselves straightening the saddlepad. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on,” Clara said, her voice almost teasing. “I can’t imagine you dive into the fray for most people. Why him?”

Viv gritted their teeth tightly as their hands moved to the girth, tightening it with quick, deft movements. “That’s none of your business.”

“It’s not love,” said Clara matter-of-factly. “He’s oblivious when it comes to flirting, and besides, I’ve been given to understand you prefer the company of women. So, not love.”

“I don’t imagine you would understand,” Viv said, their voice and chest tight. Stormsong lightly bumped their arm with her nose, and they moved to adjust the bridle, refusing to face Clara.

There was a short pause, and then, “Try me.”

Viv took a deep breath. “Fine,” they said, turning to look at Clara. “Fine. You’re a New Jorvik native, aren’t you?”

Clara nodded. “My parents own a bit of land round here.”

“They own half the town,” Viv replied. “I pay rent to your father. New Jorvik royalty, you are. I’m not. I arrived here with almost nothing. I _had_ to come here, because I couldn’t bear to see my mother’s face every time I told her there was nothing doing at the docks that day. So, when a recruiter offered me and my friends a good life, steady work, fair wages, and all we had to do was move halfway across the world, I jumped at it. I found nothing here but broken promises. And you know who helped me?”

“Jay,” Clara said quietly.

Viv nodded. “Jay. He didn’t have to. He saw a stranger from halfway across the world, and he helped me find my feet. Madame Miranda and Zoe did too, but Jay was the first. He didn’t ask for anything in return, just gave me a smile and a place to sleep. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t given me a hand, and I don’t want to think about it. I’d trust Jay with my life.” They glared at Clara. “I’d trust you about as far as I can spit.”

“You hardly know me,” Clara said, locking eyes with Viv.

“I don’t have to. You smell like danger and you’re too good with a lie, far too good.” Viv sighed. “Honestly, I don’t care you’re an outlaw. I don’t care that you’ve killed. I care that you might get one of the kindest people I know hurt.”

Clara was silent for a moment. “I won’t. Not intentionally, at least. Best I can offer,” she said, holding out her hand.

Viv nodded and took it. “Good. Because if you do,” they said, yanking Clara close, “there won’t be enough left of you for the Rangers to find.” Clara’s eyes were cold, but Viv was sure, just for a moment, that there was a glimmer of fear there as they broke apart.

Heavy hoofbeats sounded from up the main street, and Jay rounded the corner on Blossom, and raised a hand as he spotted them. “Clara. Viv. Didn’t realise I was late.”

“You’re not,” Clara said, giving him a smile that made Viv’s skin prickle uncomfortably. “Viv and I were just talking.”

“Not about me, I hope,” he said with a grin as he dismounted.

“We have more interesting things to discuss,” Clara laughed. “Let me see to Missy, and we can go.”

“Here,” Viv said, taking a leather pouch from their bag. “All the draughts you’ll need. Clean salt to cleanse wounds. And that salve you wanted.”

“Must’ve taken a while,” Jay said, opening the pouch and running a careful finger across the vials. “Thank you, Viv.”

“Don’t thank me, just come back with all your limbs attached,” Viv chided gently. “You’ve a nose for trouble.”

“I’ll be back soon, a week at most, I think,” he said.

“Then get going.” Viv shoved him towards Blossom. “Sooner you’re off, sooner you’re back.”

He laughed. “One thing.” He gave them a tight hug, and Viv smiled as they leaned their head against his shoulder. “Right,” he said, as they broke apart. “See you in a week, then.”

“See you soon,” Viv said, as he mounted back up.

Clara leapt back into her saddle lightly. “Ready to go?” Jay nodded, and she grinned. “See you soon, Viv!”

They urged their horses into a canter, and Viv watched as they rode out of the main street, growing smaller and smaller, silhouetted against the rising sun. Finally, there was nothing to be seen, not even a tiny speck against the horizon. Viv sighed and leaned their head against Stormsong, feeling as though they’d made a terrible mistake.

“Come on, my girl,” they said, unhitching her and mounting once more. “Nothing more we can do. Let’s head home.”

 

“Two days, you reckon, to New Jarlaheim?” Jay asked, as they trotted out of town, Missy struggling to match Blossom’s vast strides.

Clara nodded. “With any luck, we can stop at an inn tonight, but if not, then I hope you like sleeping under the stars.”

“Fine by me,” he replied. “But I hope you’re better at building fires than I am.” Clara snorted, and he looked at her sharply. “What?”

“You can’t light a fire?” Clara asked, her voice alight with amusement.

“I can _light_ a fire just fine,” Jay said. “They tend to just go out quite quickly. Never had the knack, I suppose.”

“I can teach you,” Clara said, grinning. “Didn’t ever expect to need to teach someone, but I can.” She dropped Missy’s reins for a moment to lean back and check her saddlebag – the mare would keep walking, she was more than used to her rider changing position as they rode.

“What are you doing?” Jay asked curiously.

“Just checking I’ve got everything I need,” she replied, digging around for a moment.

“And have you?”

Her fingers closed on a small, hard cylinder, wrapped in cloth to keep it safe, and Clara smiled. “I have,” she said, sliding the sleeping draught back to the bottom of her bag and leaning up in the saddle again. “Shall we pick up the pace?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jay and Clara set off on their journey, but trouble lies ahead...

“Are you sure this is the best place to stop?” Jay asked as he dismounted. He looked around the inn yard warily, taking in the cracked cobblestones and the flowerbeds that had long ago surrendered to the weeds. A worn sign swung back and forth, creaking in the breeze.  The paint had faded in the harsh sunlight, but Jay could just make out the words “Wolf Hall Inn.”

Clara grinned. “It’s not the best place to stop. It’s pretty much the only place to stop.” She took her feet out of the stirrups and stretched them, wincing a little. “The food is fine and the beds don’t have lice, so it’s a good bet as far as I’m concerned.”

Jay still looked a bit dubious, but he nodded. “I suppose it’s only for a night, as well.”

“That’s the spirit,” Clara said with a grin. “Come on, let’s bed the horses down, and then I need a drink.”

 

The inn’s owner was odd and the cook odder, but Jay was still glad to stop. A full day in the saddle had left him aching, even with Blossom’s gentle, rocking stride. Clara still seemed perky—if anything, she had gotten cheerier the farther they went from New Jorvik. She was over at the bar, her face animated as she chatted to the bartender, and Jay envied her energy.

She made her way back and plunked a glass of beer in front of him. “You look like you might need this.”

“I do. I really do.” Jay took a deep drauft and sighed. “You were a while.”  
  
Clara nodded. “Just checking a few things with the barkeep. Rooms are sorted for tonight, you’ll be pleased to hear. And I got a good tip-off.”

“About Sabine and—”

“Shh!” Clara cut him off with a glare. “Do you want the whole bar to know?”  
  
Jay glanced round at the scant few patrons, most of whom were drinking alone. “Do you think they’d notice?”

“Best to be on the safe side,” Clara said softly. “But yes, about our friends. They came through about three weeks back, stayed the night, and set off on the Jarlaheim road.”

“The barkeep didn’t happen to see the harp, by any chance?” Jay asked hopefully. Clara shook her head, and his heart sunk slightly.

She grinned at his expression. “But the maid did.”

“She did? So they still have it?”  
  
“As far as we know. And even if they have passed it on, it’s not long sold.” She sighed happily. “We’re on the right track.”

“It must be a relief,” Jay said gently, and she smiled.

“If all goes well, I’ll have it back in a few days.” She toyed idly with her glass. “I’ve been waiting for this for months.”

“It’ll be a relief for your family to get it back,” Jay said. “I assume there’s a place waiting for it in one of your drawing rooms.”

“ _One_ of my drawing rooms?” Clara spluttered with laughter. “How rich do you think my family is?”

Jay shrugged. “You think I’ve met many rich people?”

“I’m not rich,” Clara protested.

“Your family is,” he said with a grin. “Same thing, isn’t it?”

She laughed. “I suppose.”

“I assume you have a plan to get the harp off these people once we get to New Jarlaheim?” Jay asked.

Clara’s face clouded and she bit her lip. “Not as such. I suspect they might not just hand it over if I ask, even if I do it nicely. The best thing would be to be able to get it back without them noticing, if possible.”

Jay’s brow furrowed. “Would the Rangers in New Jarlaheim help you with that? I assumed they’d want to arrest them.”  
  
“I’m sure they would,” Clara agreed. “But I never said we were involving the Rangers in this.”

Now it was Jay’s turn to look puzzled. “But— I get that they’ve got your heirloom, but— That’s theft, Clara.”

She looked coolly at him. “And? I said I’d do anything to get the harp back. I meant it. And stealing from a thief isn’t really stealing.” She sipped her ale, her eyes clouding over with worry. “Besides, you don’t know Sabine and Katja. I do. To say they’re bad people is an understatement. The harp isn’t safe with them.”

“What did they do?”

Clara sighed heavily. “They were Rangers. Not like we have in New Jorvik now. They were crooked as a rusty nail, and mean to boot. I’m sure you know about the battle of New Jorvik—we ran them out of town after that. But they’re still dangerous, and they won’t have forgotten me. No need to tangle with them directly if we can help it.”

“So they’re dangerous—all the more reason to seek help from the New Jarlaheim Rangers,” Jay protested. “Real Rangers.”

“I said no,” Clara said forcibly.

“Why not? What are you so afraid of?” Jay asked.

Clara’s eyes were steely. “I’m not afraid of anything. But I have good reasons for not wanting the Rangers involved. You have to promise me you won’t say anything to them. Promise me, Jay.”

Jay tapped his fingers uneasily. “All right, I promise. I’ll follow your lead. But I’m trusting you not to lead me into danger.”

Clara smiled, and the tension dissipated as easily as it had come. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” The clock on the wall chimed, and she drained her beer. “Come on, we should get some rest. Another long ride tomorrow.”

Jay groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

 

Clara sat down heavily on the bed. Her head was spinning, and not only because of the cheap beer the bartender served. She shouldn’t have let Jay come along. Honest men were fools. Who else would think of getting the Rangers involved?

She would have been better bringing almost anyone else; not for the first time, she missed the other outlaw ladies she’d spent the last few years with. It was clear, with them. There was a code, it was stuck to, and there had been a camaraderie in that. A sisterhood.

But she didn’t have them now. She had Jay, and she had to make the best of it. He was an easy travelling companion at least, happy to follow her lead, and something told her that silver tongue and gentleman’s manners of his might prove useful in a tight spot. He put people at their ease, and there was value in that.

She lay back on the hard mattress, sighed again, and rolled over to get some sleep.


End file.
